Monday, October 7, 2019

Yet, of Unknown Origin

Here’s a thought experiment:
Imagine the opposite
Of an event horizon,

A phenomenon
Nothing can enter
From which everything
Escapes forever.

That would be the origin,
The rush of all becoming.
I have five lines left
Before I end these sonnets,

But the rush of everything
From nothing keeps on coming.
Nothing’s always finished, yet.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.